


Harrowed, Yet Hungry

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aphrodisiacs, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, Foreplay, Friends to Lovers, I call this lesbians in a tower, Light Bondage, Magical Bondage, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, The Harrowing (Dragon Age), Vaginal Fingering, or alternatively, they're lesbians jowan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29183625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Solona Amell survives her Harrowing and rejoins her best friend, Elin Surana, as two full fledge Enchanters in Kinloch Hold. It's cause for a celebration that goes slightly awry because Elin's potion brewing skills could use some work.
Relationships: Female Amell/Female Surana (Dragon Age)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 12
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Harrowed, Yet Hungry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inquisitor_tohru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/gifts).



> Thank you so much for the lovely prompt! I was absolutely enchanted with it, I hope you enjoy!

Elin Surana can’t bear it a second longer. 

It feels like it has been hours. _Days_. She has paced the apprentices’ quarters like a caged beast all day, scattering children in her wake who look at her with wide eyes, and she doesn’t care.

 _She doesn’t care_.

All she wants is Solona Amell returned to her, safe, sound, and harrowed at last. Yet that is the one thing she _cannot_ force into being with a snap of her fingers and the pull of her magic. She cannot force the clock to move, cannot compel the templars to deliver her only friend back to her arms. 

She can only wait and seethe. So she does. 

Elin remembers begging Irving to go with Solona. Elin passed her own harrowing not even a fortnight before, and she’s known Solona’s time was coming. Irving kindly told her a hundred times it was impossible, but Elin persisted. 

Solona always said Elin could wear down anyone. She said it with her beaming smile, her soft brown eyes crinkling at the corners. Solona had been so _sure_ she would convince Irving. 

Instead, she had arrived down to find Solona gone. Taken, right under her nose. 

Now she can only wait, panic clawing at her throat. The fear prickles under her skin, worse than when she faced her _own_ harrowing. What if she never sees Solona look up from a book, nose wrinkling, again?

They didn’t even let her say goodbye and good luck.

“Elin-” Jowan tugs at the sleeve of her Enchanter’s robe. He is still wearing the robes of an apprentice, and probably will be the rest of his life, useless fool that he is. Elin tugs herself free with a scowl. 

“Not now,” she snaps. 

“Elin, it’s important,” Jowan pleads, fast on her heels. 

She has no time for him. She has _never_ had time for him, in truth. He is Solona’s pet project. _She_ feeds him the sympathy he craves when he whines and showers him in attention. Jowan, of course, takes Solona for granted. _He_ doesn’t seem that concerned about their friend.

Jowan moves to block her path, eyes filling with tears. “You have to help me.” 

“Oh sweet Creators, I do _not_.” 

He draws himself up to his meager height and attempts to stare her down. It doesn’t work. Elin is tall, particularly for an elf, and she’s able to look down her pointed nose at him with nothing but contempt. 

Then Jowan says _exactly_ the wrong thing. Just like he always does.

“ _Solona_ would want you to help me.” 

Elin freezes, but only because she can’t decide, exactly, how to punish his _audacity_. How _dare_ he use Solona’s name when their friend is facing a demon and may or may not return to them? Perhaps she’ll die, but that would be the more merciful solution than to see Solona’s bright eyes empty, a sun branded on her forehead beneath her dark hair. 

Just as she’s decided to freeze off the cock he has little use for, the doors swing open behind her. She hears the armored skirts of the templars, their booted feet, and swings back to look. 

There’s a knot of templars. The Knight Commander Greagoir, serious and imposing, next to Irving. A bevy of brutally handsome young men surround them. And then, in the middle…

Solona Amell leaning on the arm of the order’s newest, and most easily flustered, member. Ser Cullen watches her with fastidious, almost courtly, attention. Elin swears the boy may even be blushing, but Solona isn’t looking. Solona’s dark eyes are skipping around the tower, bright and alive, and looking… looking...

Jowan is instantly forgotten. _Everything_ is forgotten. Elin whoops and runs forward, arms outstretched. 

Solona’s answering cry is wordless and full of joy. She shoves away from the templars and falls into Elin’s embrace. They stand together, clinging to each other just as they have nearly every day since Elin was brought to this place, lip swollen and ribs protruding from her skin, only to be placed in the bunk next to the girl who hardly spoke. 

It had been them ever since. The two of them against the world, and Elin would do anything for her. _Anything_.

“I’m sorry,” Solona apologizes into Elin’s shoulder. “I wanted to leave a note, but there was no time. It all happened so quickly-” 

“Don’t apologize,” Elin growls, lifting her face from the soft silk of Solona’s hair to glare at both Irving and Greagoir. “It’s not your fault.” 

It’s theirs, and both men _know_ she’s referring to them. Neither have the decency to look ashamed. Greagoir’s eyebrows climb up his forehead, but Irving only frowns sadly for a second before he clears his throat and claps his hands together. 

His voice _booms_ magically from his throat, carrying to every corner of the tower. “Enchanter Amell has passed her Harrowing and joins our ranks. May the Maker be praised and may her magic always serve man.” 

Cheers and applause breaks out. There’s so few things to celebrate, after all, and their newest Enchanter is beloved by almost all. Solona never has a poor word for anyone and a smile for everyone. It’s how they ended up with Jowan after all. 

Sometimes Elin could shake her, but it brings her nothing but joy to see the whole tower celebrate her friend and her new blue Enchanter robes. 

“You must be tired, Solona.” Irving at least tries to sound kind when he steps forward. “I advise resting. We shall see you moved to the Enchanter’s quarters tomorrow-” 

“I already moved her,” Elin declares imperiously, tightening her grip on Solona’s waist. “She and I will share quarters. Her things are already there.” 

Irving blinks. “But Enchanter Amarys shares your rooms, does she not?” 

“She’s moved to the spare corner room. It’s smaller, but she prefers her own space.” And, of course, Elin had made it very clear Amarys would be absolutely miserable if she did not move. Solona would share her room or _nobody_ would. 

“Well, I suppose if it’s settled…” 

Elin spun away from the templars and Irving, wrapping her arm around Solona’s waist and guiding her away. “By the Dread Wolf, Solona, you had me frightened.” 

“It wasn’t easy,” Solona admits quietly. “There was an _awfully_ noisy rat.” 

“For you too?” Elin asks, surprised. 

Solona doesn’t look surprised at all. She shrugs and tucks her brown hair behind the curve of her ear. “I wanted to go where you went. I wanted to see what _you_ saw.” 

That should not mean so much to her, but for some reason, it does. She smiles into the warm affection of Solona’s face and finally, _finally_ , feels her hackles drop. 

It will be okay. It will all be okay. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Elin whispers mischievously. 

Solona groans. “The last time you said that we had kitchen duty for a month.” 

Elin cackles. “But we’re not apprentices anymore, are we?” 

The corner of Solona’s smile tips up, triumphant. “No,” she declares with a relish. “We are not.” 

xx

There are two beds in their quarters. They used to be shoved against the two opposing walls, as if Amarys couldn’t bear to get too close to her Elven roommate, but Elin has already rearranged them. The beds are shoved together, the bookcases and desks shoved to the perimeter. They’ll sleep as they always have in their bunks as apprentices, close enough to touch. 

She hasn’t slept well since leaving Solona behind, but the room seems brighter the moment Solona steps into it. Elin is almost giddy the moment Solona stands at the foot of their beds, seriously surveying the wardrobes, the furniture, the small window overlooking the glassy lake below. 

“We’re Enchanters now,” Solona murmurs, crossing the room to the window and peering out into the sky around them. “We’ll be able to go out and work!” 

“They may even take you to court, my lady Amell.” Elin teases, plopping onto bed. “Don’t you got fancy cousins in the Free Marches? Maybe they’ll ask you to come entertain them.” 

“I’ll only go if you come with me,” Solona insists stubbornly. It’s enough to warm Elin’s heart. 

“Won’t be going to court then, they won’t like my ears.” 

Solona rolls her eyes at the craziness of it, that Elin’s ears matter more than her mind or her magic. “Then we’ll go do research. Explore elven ruins or old Tevinter things. We could do _anything_ now.” 

Anything. But they’d always have to come back to their tower, and that fact settles heavy in Elin’s stomach. 

There _is_ another way. A Warden recruiter with a handsome face and dark, cunning eyes who watched her with keen interest. Elin can talk her way into anything, and if the Warden is already interested in _one_ mage, why shouldn’t he be interested in two? 

She’ll have to convince Solona to give up her books, her warm blankets, her delicate research. But Elin thinks she can talk her into an adventure, given enough time. She’d count on it. 

That can come later, though. First… they have something to celebrate. 

Elin reaches under the mattress and pulls out the dark green bottle, plain and unmarked. She holds it up high in the air and whistles until Solona pulls her attention from the window. Her eyes light up when she sees the bottle. 

“You got us wine?” she asks. 

“I brewed it!” Elin is so proud she giggles, tapping the cork with her finger twice before it pops out and lands in the corner of the room. “Padyn showed me how to enchant it to make it stronger.” 

The skeptical look on Solona’s face only makes Elin giggle. “ _You_ enchanted it? All by yourself?” 

“Oh come on,” Elin waves Solona over. “How bad could it be?”

“Remember the elfroot-” 

Elin remembers perfectly well. She smirks and cuts Solona off. “And I swear it’s not as bad as the elfroot incident.” 

Solona simply sighs and crosses back to the room, collapsing on the edge of the bed so close their thighs touch. She holds out her hand expectantly. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

Elin hands the bottle over without another word. Solona sniffs it like a nervous cat before bringing it to her lips. They close over the neck of the bottle and Elin feels a thud of something in her gut. 

Something warm and delicious. Something unnamed and unexpected. 

Solona takes a large gulp and pulls the bottle from her lips, pursing them while she considers. “It’s not bad.” 

“I told you!” Elin crows, reaching for the bottle. Solona wrenches it away with a wink and takes another hearty gulp before handing it back. Elin’s eyes fasten on the bead of blood red liquid at her lips that she quickly wipes away. 

Elin hides her interest behind the bottle, taking a large swig herself. Solona leans back on her palms and kicks her feet out, toeing off her shoes. While Elin sips on their fortified wine, she watches Solona carefully curl herself up like a cat on their bed, bare feet tucked demurely beneath her. 

She has missed this so much she _aches_ with it. As if reading her mind, Solona smiles shyly in her direction. “I feel like I’m home again.” 

It must be the wine already because the answer comes to her lips unbidden. “I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I was scared,” Solona admits, but she doesn’t pull her eyes away from Elin’s. 

“Course you were!” She passes back the bottle, but reaches out to clasp Solona’s free hand as her friend drinks. “It’s a _demon_. It’s _brutal_. Barbaric what they do to us.” 

“Elin…” Solona demurs, eyes sliding past hers to the door. Elin doesn’t look over her shoulder. Doesn’t care who hears her. 

“I’m right,” she states fiercely. “I hate the way they treat us. I hate…” 

_Hate the thought of losing you_.

Elin hates the thought of Solona, cold and lifeless and monotone in the library. Hates her shrinking into corners to hide from the templars. Hates that she could have lost her forever to a demon _they_ put in her. 

Solona’s cheeks are flushing, it matches the rising heat she feels in her own face. When Solona ducks behind her dark hair and hands the bottle back, Elin takes it in silence and drinks heavily. 

For a moment, they’re silent. Then Solona asks a question Elin _doesn’t_ expect. 

“What… what’s in that wine?” 

Her voice sounds soft, vowels slurred a little. It matches the fuzziness in Elin’s own head while she tries to think. 

“Witherstalk, Dragonthorn, Embrium, Orichalcum-” 

Solona sputters. “Orichalcum? How much?” 

Elin blinks slowly. Once. Twice. Solona’s eyes drop to watch her throat as Elin swallows, and Elin can’t help but be mesmerized by the sweep of her lashes across her cheekbones. 

“I… I’m not sure. Not a lot. Just a pinch. Or two.” 

Maybe three. It had smelled so good. Smelled like _Solona_ , actually, who she’d been missing so much while she was putting it all together. 

“Elin,” Solona’s voice wavers. “It’s an _aphrodisiac._ A strong one. This is why _I_ don’t let _you_ brew potions.” 

An aphrodisiac? Elin swallows heavily. She _knew_ that Enchanter had been shifty when she gave her the recipe. “But aphrodisiacs only work when you’re… when you’re already attracted, right? _We’re_ safe.” 

Solona’s dark brown eyes are as endless as the night sky outside their tower and Elin has never seen her look so beautiful before. Where Elin is all sharp angles, Solona is made of glorious curves. 

“Right,” Solona whispers, those eyes shifting up to trace Elin’s jaw to her pointed ears. Her fingers twitch as if she’s fighting the urge to touch. “We’re safe.” 

They’re _not_ safe. Not by a long shot. 

Unfurling in her chest is all the longing she’s been holding back for what feels like _years_. Elin has coveted Solona like she’s coveted nothing else, not even a life beyond the walls. And every single time, she’s shoved it down. Reminded herself that Solona is her friend. Her only friend. 

Her _best_ friend. 

And she’s leaning towards Elin as if drawn by a spell. Solona’s fingers lift to trace the prominent cheekbones in Elin’s face as if she’s been secretly marveling at them for years. The bed seems so much smaller, but it’s only because Solona is drawing close enough to put one soft hand on Elin’s knee. 

“We’re safe,” Solona breathes softly, dark eyes holding Elin’s. “ _I’m_ safe. With _you_.”

The plea comes out a strangled sound, one Elin isn’t sure means stop or go. “Solona-” 

“Elin..” Solona whispers, the same exact way she whispers the Chant at night, her eyes closing. 

Then Solona’s lips are against hers, soft and insistent. Warm, tasting of wine, and sweeter and gentler than Elin ever even imagined in her wildest dreams. Solona’s hand comes up to tenderly cup Elin’s cheek, swiping her thumb over her cheekbone. 

Elin’s lips open on instinct and Solona attacks like she’s been doing this her whole life. Her tongue leisurely slides against Elin’s, leaving her with little choice but to kiss back. Not that she doesn’t want to. Creators _know_ she wants nothing more. Solona’s fingers travel up the lobe of Elin’s ear, teasing at the tip, and she _moans_ at the sudden wave of pleasure that crashes over her. 

She’s so busy she hardly realizes Solona’s other hand has been busy. She’s bunching the robes up Elin’s thigh, but it’s not until her fingers find bare flesh that Elin jumps as if she’s been shocked.

The wine bottle falls from her hands and shatters on the stone floor, but Elin hardly notices. Solona pulls away, leaving her bereft, cloudy dark eyes on the mess of red liquid spilling around them. 

It gives Elin the opportunity she needs. She lunges forward, knocking Solona back onto their shared mattresses. She gasps, but Elin couldn't stop now if she tried. Her fingers tangle in Solona’s pretty new robes and push them up around her hips. 

Solona bucks beneath her until Elin presses her thigh against her warm center, hidden only by thin cotton. Solona rides her thigh with wanton lust, looking up at Elin above her. “I need you,” she breathes. “Elin, I _need_ you to touch me.” 

Solona whimpers and Elin leans down to capture that sweet, soft sound for her own. They should stop. They haven’t done anything they can’t laugh about later. It’s Elin’s last chance to be rational. 

Then Solona nips at her bottom lip and all thoughts of shoulds and shouldn’ts fly right out the tower window. 

Something dark and greedy stirs inside her and she lets it take control. Her hands slide up Solona’s soft, warm skin. The robe gathers and bunches before she has to break the kiss to tug it over Solona’s head. Her dark hair spreads like a halo on the faded quilt, the flush on her cheeks has spread down the creamy valley of her chest. 

Elin’s pulse spikes. Solona is nearly bare beneath her and it’s everything she’s wanted for so long, she can hardly believe it. But it’s Solona’s hips rocking against her thigh, Solona’s hands pushing her own robes up, Solona’s fingers skating over her ribs…

Elin impatiently finishes the job, tearing the robe over her head and chucking it into the corner. Unlike Solona, Elin doesn’t wear a breast band. She’s got no need for one. She’s bare but for the thin smalls covering her mound. 

Solona’s delicate fingers trace up and circle the buds of Elin’s nipples, watching as they harden to stiff points with a soft exclamation of wonder. “You’re so beautiful, Elin.” 

She blushes beneath Solona’s scrutiny and actually whimpers when Solona presses a palm on her back and drags her up her body to press that sweet, rosebud mouth to her nipple. 

Elin’s never been touched like this. Nobody has fumbled with her in the corner like they have with sweet, beautiful Solona. She’s unprepared for the rush of desire as Solona savors her like a sweet with little licks and her swirling tongue. Her other breast aches with neglect until Solona switches, greedy as a newborn kitten, to get a taste of that one. 

Elin swears she feels every little touch echoing between her legs. 

“Touch me,” Solona begs, “Elin, please, _touch me_.” 

For Solona, Elin would do _anything_ , but she’s almost uncertain of what to do with the squirming, beautiful mess beneath her. There’s so much to touch, she doesn’t know where to begin. 

She’s always wanted to trace her tongue down Solona’s long neck, so that’s where she starts. She tastes like salt and the metallic tang of lyrium, possibly left over from her Harrowing. 

Her Harrowing where Elin could have lost her. Could never have had _this_. 

“I love you,” Elin blurts it out without thought.

“I know,” Solona moans, dropping her head back against the pillows. “I _know_ , so please _touch me_.” 

She sounds so sweet begging that Elin is almost tempted to make her do it a little more. But the thought of losing her has reignited a fire in her belly, one that makes her hands bold. Solona is thicker than Elin is, all glorious, wild curves. Her fingers sink into them and drag Solona’s hips up her thigh again. 

The resounding moan can probably be heard the whole way across the lake, but Elin is so captivated by it, all she can think about is hearing it again and again. 

“I’m here, Solona,” she whispers. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” 

The sound Solona makes is almost a sob, a sound of pure, desperate need. Elin quickly lifts her hands to struggle with the breast band hiding Solona’s glorious chest. By the time she gets it free she’s almost mad with lust, but the sight of the perfect globes is worth it. 

Everything is worth it. 

The lightest brush of her fingertips on her breasts has Solona keening. It almost startles Elin into stopping, but Solona arches up into the touch, hips stuttering in their constant rhythm. 

The magic surges forward almost without thought. She doesn’t necessarily _mean_ to summon the vines that wrap themselves around Solona’s plush thighs and continue to drag her mercilessly forward, but she does. They even creep to the waistband of her smalls and untie them, ripping the material away and leaving Solona completely naked. 

She’s the most beautiful thing Elin has ever seen. Lost in her pleasure, chasing the friction with single-minded determination. Her folds glisten with arousal, and the barest touch of Elin’s finger to the crown where her clit hides is enough to send her moaning helplessly again. 

Elin touches her like she touches herself late at night when she _thinks_ of Solona. But her lover is so much more sensitive than she, or perhaps it’s the effect of the orichalcum. Elin doesn’t know, really, all she knows is that her gentle stroking is making Solona tremble beneath her like the earth on the verge of breaking open. 

The vines hold her steady, and thank the Creators for that, because Solona falls over the edge so suddenly Elin can do nothing but watch her ride the waves of pleasure. The only sounds she makes are desperate groans that carry _Elin’s_ name. She’s never heard anything sweeter. 

Solona collapses back onto the mattress, panting and flushed, splayed open for Elin to peruse. The vines vanish into the air she conjured them from, leaving nothing but the two of them and Solona’s arousal coating her fingers. 

Elin lifts them to her lips and licks tentatively. The taste is unexpected, but not unpleasant, and she can’t help but lick her fingers clean. 

It takes a moment to realize Solona is watching through hooded eyes. Then that sweet, enchanting smile is on her lips and she’s reaching for Elin. “I want to taste too.” 

Elin isn’t sure what Solona means for a moment, but Solona tugs her down to the mattress beside her and presses an almost chaste kiss to Elin’s lips that quickly turns less innocent when Solona slips her tongue inside. Solona groans and Elin realizes, quickly, she’s tasting herself on Elin’s lips. And that she _likes_ it. 

“Can I taste you, Elin?” Solona whispers softly, her hand smoothing down Elin’s ribs. “I want to. I want to make you sing, Elin. _Please_?” 

Elin nods, breathless with arousal that’s clouding her vision. Solona smiles as if she’s been granted a treat and presses a quick kiss to the corner of Elin’s mouth. 

Elin expects her fingers to slip beneath her smalls, and they do, but she doesn’t expect Solona herself to follow the path of her hand with tiny, delicate kisses down Elin’s stomach. She flows down her body until she’s between Elin’s splayed knees, rolling her smalls down her thighs. 

Solona wants to taste her, but Elin doesn’t realize exactly what that means until Solona drops a pretty little kiss right on top of Elin’s pubic bone. 

“Solona I-” Elin starts, but then Solona’s tongue finds her seam and licks slowly. Elin gasps and chokes on the words, watching while she tastes the slick arousal staining her slit and inner thighs. As if determined to lick it all up, Solona’s lips and tongue trace the delicate flesh, becoming gentle kisses on her inner thighs before moving back up and letting her tongue delve _deeper_. 

One hand flies to Solona’s hair, holding her in place. The other smothers her wanton moan. Elin bites her knuckles and bucks into Solona’s eager mouth. She seems determined to ravish her, to _devour_ her, and Elin can do nothing but hold on. 

Heat pools in her gut, and oddly ripples across her thighs. It feels like lances of warmth is flooding her system, relaxing all the muscles in her body besides the ones that ripples and clench as Solona pushes her further. 

It’s not until she looks down and sees the bright halo of magic around Salona’s fingertips that she understands the warmth is coming from _her_. Gentle waves of magic, so much like Solona herself, that is spooling in every inch of her body. 

Then Solona removes one glowing hand and slides her searing fingers inside her. The shock melts into pleasure immediately. Elin cries out, unable to smother herself any longer, rocking back and forth on Solona’s fingers. 

She looks down and sees Solona’s dark eyes watching her. Then that clever, beautiful tongue changes from tasting and teasing to circle her clit. The sharp knife edge of arousal steals the breath from her lungs, her muscles clenching deliciously. 

Solona doesn’t stop. She simply sucks her clit between her lips with the same kind of gentle attentiveness she’s always shown and applies the _perfect_ amount of pleasure. 

The world falls away. _Everything_ that isn’t Solona’s mouth, her fingers, vanishes. She screams in triumph, falling from the peak and shattering below the same way she would if she jumped from the tower.

But the landing is soft, Solona retreats from her clit to lap at the mess she’s made gently, rubbing soothing circles in Elin’s thighs while she pants desperately. It takes a moment before she can move her head to look down and see Solona smiling sweetly up at her. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” she admits quietly, pressing a kiss to Elin’s thigh that stirs the embers of her desire once more. “I didn’t know how to tell you.” 

Elin swallows the lump of emotion in her throat and reaches down to tuck Solona’s hair behind her ear, brushing her thumb over her slick covered lips. 

“Well,” she rasps softly. “Maybe I should brew wine more often.” 

The sound of Solona’s answering giggle is sweeter than all the wine in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> May I recommend some more smut? Check out the rest of the ["Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition" Exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2021_smutquisition)!


End file.
